Sang the minstrel:
“The cloak belongs to Princess Fluff;
’Tis woven of some secret stuff
Which makes it gleam with splendor bright
That fills beholders with delight.”
Thereafter the beautiful Zixi remained lost in thought, her dainty chin resting within the hollow of her hand and her eyes dreamily fixed upon the minstrel.
“SHE MADE A SOLEMN VOW THAT SHE WOULD SECURE THE MAGIC CLOAK WITHIN A YEAR.”
And Quavo, judging that his news had brought him into rare favor, told more and more wonderful tales of the magic cloak, some of which were true, while others were mere inventions of his own; for newsmongers, as every one knows, were ever unable to stick to facts since the world began.
All the courtiers and officers and servants listened with wide eyes and parted lips to the song, marveling greatly at what they had heard. And when it was finally ended, and the evening far spent, Queen Zixi threw a golden chain to the minstrel as a reward and left the hall, attended by her maidens.